Dealin' Cards with the Old Men in the Club Car

From what I’ve been able to gather over the years, our class in high school was remarkably unique. Most high schools are very “cliquey.” You have the popular people and the druggo people and the geeks and the sports folks and they keep away from each other and hate each other.

Not in our class.

We had one of the most un-cliquey and unified classes I’ve ever heard of. We seemed to understand that each group had strengths and weaknesses and we organized and worked together to cause massive mayhem in our high school. We discovered early it was MUCH more fun to torture the teachers and administration as a unit than waste time screwing each other over. I am convinced that the teachers and administration had a huge party and celebrated when we graduated and they were able to get rid of us.

This meant that we had a lot of friends and connections and, years later, when we began having reunions, we all got together and had a great time. No cliques forming around the sides of the hall. Everyone just moving around and visiting and reliving great old stories. It went on for hours and everyone had a great time. It also means that we all have a lot of connections across a myriad of professions. Auto mechanics, teachers, lawyers, artists, doctors and other professionals all came out of our class and we all know each other. Good networking.

When our class was having elections for class officers, we had a friend who was pretty much just a rebel and we decided we wanted to make him President. Since our class was pretty wild, the idea of having this guy as President was pretty appealing and he had a wide support base. However, the Administration was completely against this idea. They wanted some “young republican” type to be the class President, not some freakin’ hippy with long hair. To just aggravate the administrators more, we started a button campaign with the slogan “Put Some Life Into This Joint.” The buttons had fake “joints” on them. With our unified class, EVERYONE helped make and distribute the buttons. This really enraged the administration. They didn’t think drugs were anything to joke about and hated the buttons. They accused us of poor taste. Ha … fooled them …. We didn’t have poor taste ….. we had no taste at all. To make sure we had the widest possible coverage, we deliberately started a rumor that every 100th joint was real. Well …… you couldn’t keep them on the shelves after that. The school was buried in the buttons and the administration was ticked off beyond words. The final blow was that our candidate won by a landslide. We heard that the administration had a special meeting and considered nullifying the election for a number of reasons but, in the end, they gritted their teeth and took it on the chin.